


Barista Batista

by thejunipertree



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thejunipertree/pseuds/thejunipertree
Summary: On a whim, I wanted to read a coffee shop AU where Dave Batista was a Barista. None existed, so I wrote up a quick thing to draw attention to this shocking lack. Please someone take this concept & do it better!Young Dave Batista ponders his present and future while working the opening shift at Coff-Evolution.





	Barista Batista

Only two years, little Dave Batista thought to himself as he switched on the espresso machines, two years before he turned eighteen and was able to leave the foster system for good. As soon as he graduated high school, he planned to leave and never look back. That was why he spent every spare hour he could working his butt off at _CoffE-volution_. Still, he thought to himself as the grinder hummed away, producing what would become the first brew of the day, he was going to miss this weird family he’d found among his co-workers.

There was Hunter, the manager-turned-owner had managed to buy the place out from under the previous owner with the help of his wealthy new wife, Stephanie, and colorful, hands-on business associate, Ric. Since becoming owner, he’d been promising his employees that they’d have a chance to buy a stake in the business themselves and run it democratically – as soon as they had a few more months of prosperity. Randy, the other barista around Batista’s age, seemed excited by the prospect. He clearly idolized Hunter and was always talking about how great it would be to be settled, making a living, right here in his home town. Batista was more lukewarm. Hunter had been promising that for a while and the day it’d happen kept receding further and further back. Besides, as much as he loved this place, he had ambitions of his own – get out of town, maybe head up to Chicago or out to New York to see if his high school acting talent could carry him any further. Ric was always telling him he had star quality, giving him advice, and offering to set him up with a loan so he could chase his dream.

Batista put the freshly ground coffee into the machine and started the brew cycle, then turned to all the other little opening tasks ahead of him – doing a quick inventory, putting out pastries that had arrived from the bakery down the street five minutes after he did, double checking the till count was right from the previous night, seeing if he’d need change– before finally, as the clock hit six, opening the door. About ten minutes later the first customer of the day arrived – a regular. Batista smiled and greeted him and engaged with his idle chatter while getting started on making his usual – and only – order, one that they’d jokingly started calling a Batista Bomb. (It was really just a depth charge, but naming a drink after himself had done wonders for his tips and helped to avoid trademark disputes).

Randy’s specialty drink, the RKO, contained a heart-stuttering, bowel-liquidating, sweat-inducing eight shots of espresso and was pretty much only drunk by Randy himself at the end of each shift as he took off to hang out in the backwoods with some very scraggly-looking companions. Batista worried about him, especially since he’d come back to work after those nights with an odd, fervent gleam in his eyes that he never seemed to have before hanging out with those Wyatt weirdos. But there’s only so much you can say to a man who’s determined that his private thoughts are the only counsel he’ll keep.

As the morning went on, the place got busier and busier. Randy came in around seven-thirty to help with the morning rush, somehow managing to clock and cash in without Batista noticing until he backed up to grab a cup and nearly tripped over him. He and Batista rushed around filling orders, answering questions, cleaning up messes, and doing a hundred and one other things to keep the shop running smoothly, and all the while Batista was stuck with the feeling that there was something missing from his life, but not sure what it could be. Two years, he thought, and then he’d make his way out into the world and find what he was looking for.

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said, I just banged this out pretty quickly... hopefully at least it inspires someone else! Obviously timelines are warped for artistic license. Also, any excuse to avoid writing dialog on my other ideas is one I'll embrace wholeheartedly. Thanks to Brian Gewirtz for creating the foster-child backstory for Little Dave Batista, and to Edge & Christian for getting that story out to the world. And thanks to you for taking the time to read this! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed and encouraged. :)


End file.
